


Voices Carry

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Creepy, F/M, Friendship/Love, Isolation, Paranoia, Season/Series 02, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 19:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6163831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody can make you feel persecuted without your consent. Or, is it real or is it paranoia?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voices Carry

When she wakes up on his couch, Laura realizes that Bill has put his jacket over her while she was napping. It smells like the memory of cigars, and sweat, and maybe the very last gleaming of Kobol's air and soil.

And he's watching her sleep. She must have been out of it for a good long while; it's been a long time since Laura has slept well.

"Hi," she says, holding up a hand.

"Tired?" Bill inquires, trying to smile. For some reason, knowing that he's been watching her is both touching and unnerving, and it's more unnerving than not. "I found you like that and I thought..."

"Oh, no, it's fine," she says vaguely. "It's been a long week. What about you? I imagine Cottle's got you on a few medicines and rest schedule, too. Should you be up this late?"

"It's morning," Bill says. "I really should have woken you, but you sleep hard."

Laura nods, sits up, stretches her shoulders and neck while trying to process the passage of time. She had only meant to take a short nap before going back to Colonial One, and now she has wrinkled one of her suits and it just seems funny that Bill wouldn't wake her up.

"Are you hungry?" he asks while she looks around for her glasses. "We've got reconstituted egg protein and noodles."

"I should get back to Colonial One," Laura replies. "Thank you, though. Eggs and noodles sound really tasty."

Bill nods, but she can see the disappointment in his eyes, and if it was that important, Billy would have contacted her. Or Lee. Or Bill himself. It's not as though the President of the Colonies gets misplaced; they all know she's on Galactica.

"Some other time," he says.

"Well, if you're ready, I maybe could go for a little breakfast," Laura replies, awkwardly brushing her hair out of her face. "I've never been to the kitchens here."

"I'm the CO and you're the president," Bill replies gallantly, picking up his receiver. "We'll have it delivered, and we can discuss this situation with the hybridizing plants that can produce O2 and foodstuffs."

Laura nods, though something about that seems strangely wrong. Bill Adama does not seem like the kind of CO that orders his people to bring him breakfast, even if she's in the room with him. Colonel Tigh, maybe -- especially given Ellen's predilections -- but Bill doesn't seem the type.

"Is there something wrong with Galactica?" she asks. "There's no real trouble with us walking to the galleys, I promise. I'm not that ill."

"Nothing wrong," Bill says. "I thought it would be a treat. That's all."

"And I'm flattered," Laura replies. "But it's no trouble to go to the mess hall like everyone else. It shows some unity, wouldn't you say?"

Bill smiles at her like she's a particularly bright student who has made a clever observation. "You're right," he says, standing up. "We should go."

And of course, Bill is incredibly surprised when the proffered breakfast of eggs and noodles becomes something substantially tastier when President Roslin appears in the mess hall. Suddenly, there are dried strawberries. And peanut butter. And chocolate syrup for the soy milk.

"Did you know that would happen?" Bill asks, escorting Laura back toward her shuttle.

"When I was in the brig," and the shadow crosses Bill's face shortly, "One of the corporals smuggled me in some licorice."

"Licorice?" Bill asks. "I really like licorice."

"It was sweet of him," Laura says, smiling. "Anyway, I will see you soon. Thank you for breakfast."

"See you soon," Bill replies, moving into her personal space.

After that, things seem to get. Well. Every time Laura finds herself on Galactica, the longer she stays on Galactica. And it's never exactly her idea. It's Bill's suggestion, but she always says yes.

Stay overnight. Have lunch. Billy would like the rack time with Dee, and he can shuttle the information back and forth.

One day, she wakes up, there's his jacket. Laura smiles, because it's comfortable. It's comfortable to wake up with his jacket spread over her, her shoes fallen on one side. They've been talking late.

"You have a little squeak to your voice when you get tired," he'd said. "Did you know that?"

"I know," Laura had replied. "It's so embarrassing."

"I like it."

"Really? Oh, gods..."

It's almost sweet, flirting like teenagers and playing at almost-romance. She doesn't remember the last time she stayed over at a man's place like this. Years.

So she hugs the jacket and puts it aside before taking her shoes and walking to the door. Laura has work to...

The door is locked.

Laura spends three minutes fighting the door, rattling the handle, before she realizes that she has to make a call to the CIC. It's locked from the outside.

"Bridge," says Colonel Tigh's voice.

"Tigh, is Commander Adama available?" Laura asks, feeling a chill settle down her spine.

"Madam President?" Tigh asks. "You're still aboard the Galactica?"

"Is Commander Adama available?" Laura asks, her stomach turning somersaults. "I really need to speak to him immediately."

Tigh pauses for a long time, and Laura considers telling him that she's locked in the old man's room and for some reason she can't get out, but it's Tigh. And it has to be some kind of mistake.

The door rattles, and Laura jumps. But thankfully, it's Bill, and he has food. He looks at her confusedly, pointing at the phone curiously.

"He's not on the bridge," Tigh says. "Said he was on his way back to his quarters."

"Yes, he's...I found him," Laura says, looking at Bill and shying back from him. "Thank you, Colonel."

She hung up, and folded her arms around herself, glaring at Bill. "You're up."

"You locked your door," Laura answers. "And Tigh didn't know I was aboard. Bill, I'm enjoying our lengthy visits, but you locked me in your room."

"I did?" Bill says, putting the food down on his desk. "Must have been an unconscious gesture. I tend to keep the door locked. I didn't think you'd be awake yet."

"You locked me in your room because you thought I wouldn't wake up?" she says, her voice going up an octave. "I was here for a consultation with Cottle. That was all. I have work to do."

"Madam President, do you think I'd forgotten who you are? Or what you do for the fleet?" Bill asks. "It seems to me that we enjoy your visits. But if you really think I'm affecting your leadership..."

"Of course not," Laura says immediately. "It's not that at all. But you locked me in your quarters. Understand that is very inappropriate."

"Understood," Bill says, standing at attention.

And this should end it. Laura should stop coming to visit Bill in his quarters, but at the same time, paranoia is unwarranted at this juncture. The last time she was paranoid about Bill Adama, Laura accused him of being a Cylon and it's not like he meant to do it.

Except Laura remembers she hasn't seen anyone she went to Kobol with since she returned to Colonial One. Not even Lee. Especially not Lee.

Something is very wrong here.

Or maybe she's losing it. Maybe her exercises in civil unrest, leading a rebellion, and finding Earth and proving her own prophethood are wearing on her mind and she sees danger everywhere because of stress.

Bill Adama is not trying to keep her locked in his quarters away from everyone. That is insanity talking, and Laura's been trying not to listen to the voices in her head now that she's found Earth.

"Am I spending too much time on Galactica?" she asks Billy the next morning.

"Things are going all right," Billy says. "Work is getting done, and it makes the people feel more comfortable, to know that you're healing the breach between yourself and Commander Adama."

Laura gives him a look. "That's a non-answer," she points out.

"I think that you're spending more time than you used to there," Billy says. "And I think you're enjoying yourself. I hear you're sleeping?"

"And where did you hear **that** from?" Laura asks, feeling vaguely humiliated. "No. Don't tell me. I don't want to know how people know I'm sleeping on Galactica."

She tries to stay away. But she has to visit Cottle more regularly now, and Bill has a standing offer that his couch and his quarters are hers when Laura is on Galactica.

He locks the door again and Laura knows it's deliberate. Because he is Trying to Protect Her from the uncertain world just beyond his door. From the dark shadows of mortality that they both know are looming.

Or maybe he just wants her to stay. Bill Adama has never been very good at saying things. He's not even good with the obvious: there has never been a word exchanged about her accelerating death by cancer. He has never said the word cancer in her presence.

Laura shouldn't let him do this to her, let him get away with subtly controlling her movements. But she's tired and dying alone. And Bill is taking care of her.

She woke up in his bed this morning...and half-smiled when she realized where she was. It is disconcerting how nice it feels to be wanted, to be watched, to be treated so carefully. She admits it -- she stretched out and pulled the sheets over her head.

But oh, then Laura misses Lee. Or Billy. Or the reality of having her own ship to walk around.

But Bill brings her sugar for her tea, and brings her all the latest news and work, and she genuinely sleeps better on Galactica. It's such a bad habit, Laura knows, needing a door and a man to sleep soundly, but there it is.

And she is safe here.

This is the thought turning over and over in Laura's mind as she walks toward the shuttle to Colonial One. She's been here two days, and can't quite remember what time it is.

When Lee Adama sees her, he lights up, and runs to catch her by the elbow. Laura smiles back, and it's like a heavy weight has been lifted from her stomach.

"Hi," he says. "I didn't realize you were onboard again."

Laura smiles, trying to shake the distraction. "Oh, yes," she says. "I'm your father's persistent houseguest. He can't seem to get rid of me."

"Yeah, I noticed you're spending a lot of time with him," Lee says, putting a hand into his hair. "Tigh told me that you'd gotten locked in his quarters the other day, even."

The hair on the back of Laura's neck prickles. Lee is definitely asking her something other than what he's saying. "It was an accident," she says. "How are you, Lee?"

Smart boy. "Good. A little worried, suddenly," he says, taking her hand. "It's hard to find you these days. You're never on Colonial One anymore. And no one ever really sees you on Galactica, either. Is it the cancer?"

Something in Laura snaps. "Oh, maybe a little," she says. "I've missed you. Come back to Colonial One with me?"

He follows her, nodding slightly. "We haven't been talking, not since Kobol," he says.

"No. I've been very busy and a little tired," Laura points out. "And waking up in your father's quarters."

She wants to tell him that something about the whole business isn't quite right. That she needs his help, because Bill is trying to take her over, but what kind of cruel paranoia is that? To turn a son against his father because he cares for her a little too solicitously? Lee has enough work to do, and he's too young to understand what it means to be middle-aged and dying of cancer. He doesn't deserve to be saddled with paranoid persecution fantasies.

"I'm worried about you," Lee says. "I wish we had more time together."

"So do I," Laura says, as they turn a corner and run smack-dab into Bill. She tries not to jump. She fails, and covers it up with a pained smile. "Commander Adama."

"Madam President," he says. "Going home?"

"For now," Laura says. "Captain Apollo was asking after my health."

"Of course," Bill says. "Lee, you're needed on the flight deck."

"I just got off duty, sir," Lee says. "The president would like me to advise her..."

"You're needed on the flight deck," Bill says. Laura sighs. "You can go later."

The window of opportunity clangs shut, and Bill offers Laura her arm as Lee turns away, looking over his shoulder. She takes the commander's arm.

Pauses.

Sighs.

Will be back aboard tomorrow.

After all, this is home now.


End file.
